On The Fly

An anomaly that often struck me about the peculiar manner of my friend Hercule Peridot was the precision of his methods, yet the impulsive nature of his personality. Still, somewhat early morning, I carefully descended the hotels narrow staircase. To my surprise, found Peridot sipping coffee in the gathering room. He was impeccably dressed; a fine silk vest, dashing red necktie, and his shoes their customary adamantine luster. “What a marvelous view!” Ponte Vecchio Bridge “Yes, yes indeed, this splendid morning, we find ourselves in the heart of the city center, on the Arno River. He motioned to the window, “the famous Ponte Vecchio Bridge. Join me for breakfast, my boy.” said Peridot, as he waved his hand over our Petit-déjeuner. “We have a tasty selection of cheese, and pastries. With a theatrical motion he kissed the fingers on his right hand, “And the coffee is simply superb. What could be better, I believe the Italians call it La Dolce Vita , the sweet life." ...

Peridot: Photo Robert Weldon Gemstones have been my fascination since childhood and, although in 1985 I embarked on the study of gems, I could never get a handle on practical gemology until I met Hercule Peridot. My name is Adamas Bontemps; as you will see, I was destined to discover the power of that elusive skill, the science of deduction. That cold, windy February day in Chicago would change my life forever . . .  It was 1982 when I first met Peridot; he was on the docket as the primary lecturer for a weekend gem seminar at the Natural History Museum in Chicago. It was a three-day affair. Peridot’s expertise was diamonds; in his flamboyant, jocular style, he captivated the audience with the power of the spoken word. The history, lore, the remarkable properties, and most of all, his enthusiasm and love for the study of that elusive gem. Day two of the conference, it was as if my mind was radiated by a glowing light, “That’s exactly what I want to do!” That day was ma...

Ediza Lake - photo by Robert Weldon "Whoa!" - for an instant my concentration lapses, feet flailing in the air, a quick flash of puffy white clouds in a clear blue sky, a golden brown hillside cluttered with very large boulders, twisting as I fall, the next instant I hit the ground hard . . . pain shoots through my left hip, "damn!" My immediate thought, “Oh no . . . will I be able to get up, how will I get down this mountain?” Descending the mountain with hiking pole in one hand and fishing rod in the other, a slower pace, very unpredictable. A habitual quick check padding my pocket; camera, fishing rod, my ankle, my back, nothing broken. Ok, let’s try to get up. My partners, Robert Weldon and Brendan Laurs were further up the mountain photographing the majestic view completely unaware of what just happened. For me, this moment was the culmination of all my training and instincts converging in a painful flash. It was day two of our high Sierra adventure. ...